


Hidden

by HisTwenty7Tattoos



Category: One Direction (Band)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:12:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisTwenty7Tattoos/pseuds/HisTwenty7Tattoos
Summary: I wrote this based on a prompt from prompt.writing.s from Instagram. They did not ask me to write this, I saw the prompt and chose to write something on it."You finally build enough courage to talk to that cute someone you see every day on the bus. Their face turns dark as they respond, 'You shouldn't be able to see me.'"





	Hidden

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own One Direction and this is not a true story.
> 
> Any mistakes are my own.

He’s late. Not in like the “oh cool I’ll just skip breakfast today late,” in the “just throw on the least smelly shirt” type of late. He can also still feel the wine from the night before, but honestly what does someone recently out of a relationship do after work, apart from drink wine and watch Netflix alone? Sam is outside rolling around in the grass and thank God she’s trained because it used to take ten minutes just to get her back in the door. By the time he has Sam content in her kennel, he’s grabbing his travel mug from the Keurig and pulling the door shut.

He makes it to the bus stop just as it’s pulling up, climbs on, and swipes his card. He makes his way to his normal seat, body on autopilot at this point, and stops just before sitting down because someone is already there. He takes the next open seat, and resolves to spend his ten minute bus ride observing the stranger occupying his space.

He’s gorgeous is the thing. He’s got dark features, the deepest brown eyes imaginable. His hair looks freshly washed, and has received just the right amount of care to be styled in a way that looks like it could almost be natural. He’s wearing a plain black T-shirt and black jeans to match. His appeal doesn’t end with his appearance though, he’s concentrating deeply on the book folded in his lap, a small scowl forming as if he’s hit a sad chapter.

All too soon, he realizes it’s his stop. He passes the stranger and exits the bus, headed in for another day at the office.

~

He rolls over and sees the sun peeking through the window. It’s before his alarm and that thought makes him groan beneath the covers and shove his head back under the pillow. Sam noticed he was awake, however, and comes closer, trying to gain his attention. When Sam doesn’t relent, he twists his fingers into her golden fur and moves in for a snuggle. Sam’s got other plans though; she shoves her cold nose into his neck and starts licking, a sign she wants him to get up. Five minutes later, after realizing he won’t be falling back asleep, he’s getting ready to brace the outdoors. The least he can do is take Sam for a morning walk to repay her for sleeping in a few days ago.

They make their way around the neighborhood, the chilly morning making him thankful for the oncoming spring, and also looking forward to returning for a warm shower. Sam’s clearly enjoying the morning activity, tail swinging happily and nose so close to the ground she’s practically walking on her long ears as they skim across the pavement.

Returning to the house, he unleashes Sam, who bounds to the door and waits for him to catch up and let her in. Upon entering, Sam sprints toward her bed and pounces, settling in to wait while he showers. He starts his coffee, knowing it’ll be at the perfect drinking temperature after he showers, and makes his way to the bathroom. The mirror is fogged by the time he exits, towel wrapped around his waist as he hunts for something mildly professional to wear to the office.

Sam gets up to go out one more time, and when she comes back inside she heads to her kennel, looking forward to the treat that follows. He heads out the door with a, “Goodbye Sam, love you!” and makes his way to the bus stop. While waiting, he throws his headphones in, the newest favorite of his friend Andrea playing through the headphones.

By the time he settles into his new seat, courtesy of Bus Boy taking his previous one, he feels a little off. Glancing up, he notices Bus Boy is staring directly at him. He makes eye contact for a few seconds, but when this doesn’t deter his stare he looks away. Three minutes later and Bus Boy’s eyes are still boring holes into his body. Surely he didn’t forget anything, right? He remembered his shirt, hell, he even made sure his dress socks matched his outfit.

One uncomfortable bus ride later and he’s at the office, left wondering what struck this beautiful stranger with such strength that he forgot basic human decency. Pushing past it, he starts on the accounting reports piled over his keyboard.

~

The thing is, he thought the staring was a one-time incident. Maybe he had breakfast granola on his chin or something. But Bus Boy doesn’t stop. A week goes by, a week of horribly awkward busses and second guessing his appearance, brain running to try and decode the purpose of this stranger’s uninterrupted observations. Sure, he’s beautiful, probably one of the most beautiful people he’s seen in the city, but the staring? It was throwing him off.

He’s sat in his backyard, nothing big, just enough room for Sam to explore. She’s currently doing just that, having caught the smell of another animal near the base of the only tree in the yard, tail pointed up and nose shoved in the dirt. He glances at the planner in his lap, trying to balance a long weekend with friends to go to Andrea’s cabin and the overbearing work schedule his boss asked him to look over.

Really, a week at the cabin is what he and Sam needed. He’s had her cooped up all winter, only the space of the yard to explore as the snow receded. She needed some room to run, to stretch her legs that were now fully out of the awkward puppy stage. The patio door was cracked open, and through it he heard the sound of the doorbell. Sam abandoned her investigation to greet the newcomer, bearing through the door so fast he heard her grasp for traction as her nails hit the tile.

Making his way into the house and pulling the patio door shut, he sees Sam patiently waiting at the front door, tail sweeping back and forth in anticipation.

“Hey Andrea! Come on in… Sam, down!”

Andrea’s already laughing as she crosses the threshold, swiftly handing her things over so she can greet the pup at her feet. “Sammy girl, look how big you are!” She plops down, surrendering to the onslaught of Sam’s welcome.

After bringing the wine to the kitchen, pouring two glasses, and returning to the living room where Sam and Andrea have migrated to cuddle more, they spend the night catching up, eating deep dish pizza from our favorite place down the street, and watching whatever movie she picked for the night. It’s a romance, one he hasn’t seen before, and is still not too invested in now.

“Wait, so he just stares? Are you sure it’s not at someone else?”

“No Andrea, it’s at me, I know it is. And not normal staring either, it’s almost inhuman. I feel like he’s staring into my brain.”

“Well, confront him about it then. Most people back down at confrontation.”

He checks the bottle sitting between them, it’s only half empty, so surely Andrea isn’t drunk enough to actually have suggested that. Andrea is insistent though and the morning after she’s left, he sits on the back patio with coffee, watching Sam chase a butterfly and going over options.

~

Monday arrives, and he’s made up his mind. In complete honesty, the guy’s been staring at him for a week. Is it really so awkward to confront him about it when those are the circumstances? By the time he’s to the bus stop, he’s started the pep talks to psych herself up.

The bus pulls up, and he climbs aboard. Before he can talk himself out of it, he plops down next to Bus Boy and arranges his things in his lap. Bus Boy is staring again, with an intensity just as powerful, if not more so than the other times. He takes a deep breath and prays his voice doesn’t tremble like it normally does when he’s nervous. He turns to face Bus Boy a bit more, and he hasn’t even opened his mouth to talk yet, but this movement startled the boy. His brows are furrowed and he backs further against the window, still staring the whole time.

“Hi, I’m Liam, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I wanted to ask why you keep staring at me? Most people don’t do that, and they definitely don’t do it once the other person has noticed.”

By the time he’s finished his short speech, Bus Boy’s eyes are wide. His mouth has fallen open a bit, and it switches between open and closed as if trying to find something to say. When the normal amount of time for a response has passed, Liam quirks his eyebrows at him hoping it spurs him to respond.

Finally, he must settle on words, because he stones his face, looks Liam in the eyes, and says, “You shouldn’t be able to see me.”


End file.
